


Sunflower

by BlackMajjicDuchess



Series: Namesake [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU - Freeform, Childhood, Flowers, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, Language of Flowers, Loss of Innocence, Protectiveness, Sunflower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1377199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMajjicDuchess/pseuds/BlackMajjicDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got the idea in my head one day to bring some of the Naruto characters face-to-face with the thing they were named after for the first time. I thought it might be fun. Also accepting challenges!</p><p>Stories will be posted separately but as part of the Namesake series.</p><p>Part 4: Sunflower</p><p>Hinata remembers a time when being a Hyuuga wasn't a soul crushing experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunflower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larryjc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryjc/gifts).



> To issue a challenge, just comment on one of the stories in the series with the name you'd like to see done. The only stipulation is that it HAS to be a name that has a meaning, and it has to be a meaning that is something one can encounter. Example: Madara means "spots." What the heck am I supposed to do with that? On the other hand, Naruto's name refers to some kind of fish cake, which is something he could confront somehow.
> 
> Hinata Challenge from larryjc
> 
> Hinata = Sunflower, A Sunny Place

On the other side of her wall—a wall that once used to serve as a conduit for their young voices—she heard the sounds of armor clanking into place. It put a sour taste in her mouth instantly, as it did every time she heard it. Each time she heard the musical clang of steel clips and zippers, she couldn’t help but scream inside. One of these days, perhaps she would wake up and it would all be a dream.

There was a time when things had been different. The Hyuuga household had been a place of laughter and music, love and flowers. How she longed for those days…

* * *

 

She had been eight years old, and her mother had still been alive. Her mother had been dressed in a violet kimono, dashed all over with various blossoms and gold thread. Hinata had always believed her to be the most beautiful woman in the world, both inside and out. Back then, her father had been happy, and it had made him less stern. Hanabi was three and wearing a miniature version of their mother’s kimono, minus the gold thread. Hanabi had always loved her mother’s purple kimono, and so her father had commissioned one made to match for each of them. Hinata seldom wore it. She didn’t want to pretend to be her mother. She wanted to be someone like her mother, but like her father, too. Someone different. Someone strong, yet beautiful and sweet. Neji was nine. Already he was a serious child. He used to smile a lot more. Ko was there, too, and he and Neji sat nearby, watching, protecting. She had always felt safest with both of them there.

Their mother was teaching them about flower meanings. Her garden was her sanctuary, and everything within it was her queendom. Hinata had never seen so many flowers in one place, and never would since. Even Yamanaka’s flower shop had nothing on the Hyuuga gardens. There were blossoms here that couldn’t be found anywhere else in Konoha. Here, their mother was the center of the universe, and the two sisters could only hope to be even a tenth as knowledgeable or graceful. 

“And this one?” Hinata would ask, slipping her fingers under the petals of a new blossom and looking toward her mother.

She sat upon a stone bench, ankles tucked primly and hands clasped across her lap. She was the picture of elegance. “That’s a magnolia. It means ‘nobility.’”

“And this one?” she’d ask, dancing over to a new one.

“Daffodils. They mean love and admiration for a single person, or a love that is not returned.”

“And this?”

Her mother smiled. “Ah, now that is an interesting one. Carnations. They mean a variety of different things, depending on the color. That white one there means ‘innocence’ or ‘sweetness.’ Pink means ‘I won’t forget you.’ Red means ‘admiration.’ Yellow expresses disappointment." 

“And this?”

“Coreopsis. I like that one quite a bit, actually. It means ‘cheerfulness.’” 

On and on it went. Her mother never seemed to grow tired of it. She’d ask about each and every flower, repeating them back until she had them all memorized. Hanabi would watch, silently smiling, probably learning but never saying a word. Neji and Ko were equally as silent. Ko’s face was always shining with adoration, but Neji’s was more solemn. He seldom smiled. She wished he would.

“You can make chains of flowers,” her mother offered, plucking a couple of coreopsis blossoms with stems attached and laying them in her lap. She made a quick, careful slice with her fingernail in the stems, then threaded them through one another. “See?” She held up the coreopsis chain and showed her daughters. Hinata danced and laughed with delight, and Hanabi smiled shyly.

“Oh, let me try!” Hinata begged. Obliging her eldest daughter, their mother picked handfuls of coreopsis blossoms, and Hinata sank down in the garden and started constructing chains. When they were long enough, her mother showed her how to make necklaces, and they even made a small crown with crocuses for jewels.

Hinata was never one to make something for herself, though. When she was finished with her creations, she crowned her younger sister and made necklaces for all three girls. She even made collars of baby’s breath for the two men. Ko was more than happy to wear his. Neji’s lips quirked, threatening a smile that never came, but he bore her childish attentions without complaint.

She wasn’t tired of making them, though, so she kept right on going. Before long, her baby sister was buried in chains of flowers and her mother had plenty of necklaces to make her look like the noble, elegant lady that she was. Neji and Ko were content with one each.

It was then that she espied it. She had probably missed it because it was so tall. It towered above her by a good twelve inches or so, but it was the biggest flower she had ever seen. Her heart soared to see it, for it was a flower that grew noble and tall, reaching for the heavens with a determination that refused to be denied. What a bold, valiant flower! It was everything she one day hoped to be: beautiful, brave, and powerful. It had a dense, thick stem more like a small tree trunk and a broad blossom with golden petals. “Mother!” she whispered fiercely, struck by awe. “What is that one?” She pointed over her mother’s shoulder at the mightiest of flowers. 

Her mother craned her delicate neck over her shoulder to see. Her smile was lovely. “That’s a sunflower, sweetheart. It’s one of the tallest flowers that there are. Sunflowers mean appreciation and happiness. Would you like one?”

She nodded, dumbstruck and unable to find the words. Her mother had to cut the stem with a small knife to release it. She placed the flower in Hinata’s hands, who held it aloft with reverence. What a wonderful thing!

But again, Hinata never kept anything for herself. She peeked over at her little sister, still wearing her flowers and standing demurely in that copy of her mother’s kimono. She looked like a little princess, and Hinata was certain that one day she’d be as sweet and lovely as their mother was. Hinata had vowed to always protect her little sister; she would be sure to become as strong as her father so that Hanabi never had anything to fear. “You be the princess,” she said to her, gifting her with the Sunflower Scepter. “And I’ll be your bodyguard.”

Hanabi giggled, taking the huge flower from her older sister. Neji actually did smile then, and Ko made a show of bowing to the Flower Princess. “All hail the Princess Hanabi!” her mother’s pretty voice rang out.

“All hail the Princess Hanabi!” the rest of them copied.

She had been so lovely that day, and everyone had been so happy. Even Neji.

* * *

 

But Neji was dead. Their mother was dead. Her father was sad and bitter, but he was trying. Ko didn’t smile as much anymore, either. It must have been hard for him, too. And Hanabi…

“Hey,” she said, leaning in the doorway. Her face was expressionless, her pale eyes cold and unfeeling. The white mask she always wore now was held in place on the side of her head, waiting for her to need it. The cruel hilt of that cold and merciless sword stabbed up from over her shoulder. Those graceful limbs of hers that would have best suited a dancer were honed and hard and adorned with a deceptively pretty tattoo. 

“Hm?” Hinata acknowledged, interrupted from her reverie. Her heart sank. “Another mission?”

She nodded. “If Father asks, just tell him I’m training.”

“Okay.”

In a whirl of brown hair and the muted clink of armor, she was gone. She’d become everything she never should have: a liar, a killer, a warrior. When Hinata saw the ANBU uniform, she thought of her mother’s kimono. When she saw the grim, set line of her mouth, Hinata thought of that shy, innocent smile. And when she saw the mask and the sword, Hinata thought of the flower crown and necklaces. She wanted her little sister to be cheerful and pristine, protected and revered. That was why seeing her in that uniform had hurt so badly, and why it continued to bother her.

Hanabi should have been the princess. Hinata should have worn the armor. 


End file.
